Signs of Weakness
by NerdBurga
Summary: Where Tony has a problem he tries to hide from Gibbs, but come on, since when could he hide anything from his mentor? Kinda dark, lots of angst and feels. Gibbs will always look after Tony. He always has his six. *On hiatus*
1. Chapter 1

**Ok, so I don't even know where this idea came from. Some of these plotbunnies confuse even me, but I just go with it. It's kind of different to what I usually write, but hopefully it's still ok. I did it as a sort of one shot open to more chapters if I feel like adding more in, so please let me know what you think :)**

**Many thanks to Tosca's Prayer for your insight.**

**Just a warning, involves eating disorder.**

Kate watched on in disgust as Tony sucked down the last piece of pizza, giving his stomach a satisfied pat.

"I hope you didn't want that Kate," he said with an easy grin on his face, leaning back on his chair in the bullpen.

"You're digusting DiNozzo," was her only reply. She attempted to go back to focusing on her report, but her partner was having none of it.

"Hey," Tony leaned forward pointing a serious finger at her. "This body is a machine. And machines - "

"Please spare me the well-oiled machine speech. I practically know it off by heart." She looked at him incredulously as he picked the last bit of cheese from the box. "How do you ever expect to keep in shape like that?"

Tony glared at her for a moment, surprising Kate with his sudden seriousness. But just like that the look was gone and Tony had turned his attention to McGee who was attempting to ignore them both as he typed furiously away at his keyboard. "What about you Probie? You didn't want it?"

Tim suddenly looked up, his expression an unhappy one. "Well yeah Tony, kinda."

"Oh. Well, my bad," replied Tony, the happy-go-lucky smile never leaving his face. "I owe ya one next time, alright? Don't get your Mcpanties in a knot."

McGee just made an exasperated sound and went back to his computer.

Gibbs stalked in, coffee in hand, in time for the last part of their conversation. "Can't we all just get along?" he asked in a tired voice as he sat down at his desk.

"Sorry Boss," replied McGee.

A silence settled over the squad room as Gibbs surveyed his team in the dim glow of the after-hours lights. Their latest case might have been over, but being two weeks of tireless work and almost fruitless efforts, it had taken its toll. They all needed some rest, and, Gibbs suspected, a break from each other. They all had each others' six, for sure, but that didn't mean a fortnight with no one but each other for company wasn't trying. The lack of sleep wouldn't have helped either, Gibbs thought as he downed his sixth cup of the day.

Kate was looking about ready to pass out, her eye lids drooping even as she stared blankly at her computer screen. McGee's fingers flew across the keyboard as fast as ever, but he had a drawn look about him and, it seemed, a much shorter fuse when it came to DiNozzo. And speaking of Tony…

Gibbs's eyes narrowed slightly as he quietly examined his SFA. The dark bags under his eyes and unkempt hair were to be expected after the gruelling case, but there was something else… off. Gibbs looked on from over the top of his computer monitor as Tony leaned back on his chair to stare up at the ceiling. His face was stony, tight lines at the corners of his eyes and mouth presenting a look of discomfort. It was only a few seconds later that Tony gave up on reclining and was instead leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees, glaring at the floor as if it had done him some past wrong.

"DiNozzo!" snapped Gibbs, bringing the younger man out of his reverie. "You feeling ok?"

Tony's face contorted - was that a look of fear that flitted across his face? - before he returned to his trademark toothy smile. "Just fine, Boss. Tired as all hell though. This was a tough one."

Gibbs scrutinised him a moment longer before nodding curtly. "Yeah. It was," he muttered quietly. Raising his voice he addressed his team. "Go home. The paperwork won't be going anywhere."

"That's what I'm afraid of," sighed Kate, but all the same began to pack up, turning her computer monitor off as she collected her things. Tony and McGee were right behind her, preparing to leave with the most amount of energy Gibbs had seen them have all day. Hiding his amused smirk, Gibbs went back to his own files piled on his desk, signing off on the arrest charge with satisfaction. Three sets of "Night Gibbs," were heard but by the time he looked up the bullpen was empty.

Gibbs took a sip from his coffee, only to realise he had already drunk it all. Taking this as a sign, he decided it was about time he too headed home. Unlike his agents, Jethro took his time turning off the computer (unused all day) and holstering his phone and gun. Finally, he lethargically stepped away from his desk and began to walk out of the bullpen, looking forward to a glass of bourbon as soon as he got home.

But it seemed home was not on the cards just yet for Agent Gibbs. Pausing not even halfway to the elevator, he retraced his steps to come face to face with DiNozzo's desk - and his backpack still open on the top.

_Where the hell did DiNozzo get to?_ Wondered Gibbs.

Ignoring rationality that Tony was probably fine and trusting his unsettled gut instead, Gibbs headed in the opposite direction of the elevator.

The men's room was only half lit when Gibbs walked in, one of the lights having been busted a few days ago. The end stalls were shrouded in darkness, but the sound of gagging gave way to someone's location, in the very last one. Gibbs squinted, standing by the sinks.

"Tony?"

The gagging abruptly stopped, replaced by dry coughing instead. Gibbs walked slowly up to the stall and pushed open the unlocked door, seeing a familiar silhouette leaning over the toilet awkwardly. It took a minute for the coughing to subside, and finally there was silence.

"Hey Boss," said Tony in a raspy voice, slowly pulling himself up off the floor. Gibbs stepped back to make room as Tony flushed and stepped out of the cubicle, making his way to the sinks and keeping his eyes on the floor. Gibbs followed him and studied his agent under the better light as Tony washed his hands.

"You look like hell DiNozzo."

A weak smile graced Tony's features as he continued to wash his hands, rubbing them relentlessly. "Guess Giovanni's Pizza isn't as welcoming as it smells," he said tiredly. "Must have been something off in there." Gibbs didn't reply, his eyes dragging down to Tony's hands, still rubbing against each other under the running water. "Maybe I should have given that last piece to McGee after all." Tony's voice sounded nervous, like the way he spoke whenever he was trying to fill awkward silences or gauge his boss's current mood. And he still wouldn't look at Gibbs.

Finally Jethro reached over and turned off the tap, causing Tony to leave his hands hanging uselessly over the sink. Tony kept his eyes down, apparently fascinated with his now slightly red hands.

"That what's really going Tony?" asked Gibbs quietly. Tony turned away to grab a paper towel, but Gibbs rested his hand on the other man's wrist before he could return to his senseless rubbing. "Hey. Look at me for a minute."

Instead Tony wrenched his arm away as if burned, chucking the unused towel in the bin as he did so. "Yeah, what else would it be?" he asked seriously, practically charging out the door without waiting for an answer. Gibbs watched him go, knowing with a sudden certainty he'd get no sleep tonight.

* * *

Try as Tony might, he was unable to fly under Gibbs' radar over the next few days. He constantly felt eyes on him, and began to feel paranoid. Kate and Tim noticed he was slightly more subdued than usual, but said nothing, putting it down to fatigue. But Tony knew Gibbs was smarter than that, he knew the night Gibbs caught him he'd blown his cover, a cover he'd been keeping intact for a very long time. By the third day the oppressive feelings grew so strong he left the office early, grunting about a headache. He almost expected his boss to follow him into the elevator, but was left alone and got a free run all the way to his car.

It was about 2230 when Tony received a knock on his door. Picking himself up off the couch, an open and untouched beer left on the arm rest, he turned off the TV and went to open the door. Seeing who it was, Tony internally cursed himself for thinking he'd gotten away with such a rash move.

"Oh. Hey Gibbs. What're you doing here?"

His boss gave him a small smile as he stepped into the apartment. "Need to talk."

"Wha - you?" asked Tony, acting incredulous as he led Gibbs back into his lounge room. "I dunno Boss, that might be a bit of a stretch for you. Real talk usually requires more than three syllables per sentence." He leaned against one of the arm rests comfortably as Gibbs sat down on the other side and noticed the beer bottle.

"How about you cut the crap DiNozzo," sighed Gibbs, eyes focused on the bottle as he placed it on the ground out of the way.

"I don't know what you mean Gibbs. It wouldn't be me without a bit of crap involved." He visibly winced. "Thank god Kate wasn't around to hear me say that."

"I see the bad pizza is out of your system."

Tony's face remained stoic, a forced smile covering serious eyes. "Yeah, guess it is."

Gibbs turned to his agent and looked him directly in the eyes, his face set. "Except it wasn't bad pizza."

Tony, unable to bare the brunt of Gibbs's gaze, stood up and began to pace. "Come on Boss, don't get me wrong, it tasted good, but obviously it wasn't the best quality in the world or I wouldn't have - " he stopped abruptly, stilling his body along with his words. He turned away so his back was to Gibbs.

"No more jokes, Tony," said Gibbs in a calming voice. "Just tell me if what I saw, is really what I saw."

There was a moment of silence where Gibbs expected to have another joke thrown at him, or even be yelled at. What he didn't expect was for Tony mutter almost inaudibly "I didn't mean to."

The senior field agent walked to the opposite wall and leant against it, lowering himself until he was sitting facing Gibbs. His eyes darted to his expensive shoes, his face dark and full of guilt, as he waited for a response.

"How long?" asked Gibbs simply.

Tony shook his head stubbornly, like a kid being asked where he'd hidden someone else's toy, and continued to avoid eye contact at all cost. Without a word Gibbs stood from the couch and closed the short distance between them, coming to sit down against the wall next to Tony. They both stared at nothing, and Gibbs pretended not to notice the minute trembling radiating from his friend's body.

"I'm sorry," muttered Tony in that same quiet, guilty voice.

"Don't apologise."

"Yeah, yeah, it's a sign of weakness." The shine in DiNozzo's green eyes had gone and he buried his face in his hands. "But then so is throwing up everything you've eaten."

Gibbs's hand came up to smack the back of Tony's head. DiNozzo looked up, but before he could really react, the hand came back down and rested much more gently on the same spot - a sign of comfort, louder than words.

"You're a lot of things Tony," said Gibbs, his voice barely more than a whisper. "But you are not weak."

**So, thoughts?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Due to brainstorming with Tosca and encouragement from you guys (thanks so much for the response!) I have this and one more chapter basically figured out. I'm sorry if anything is innacurate.** **Hopefully this will explain a few things.**

A young Anthony DiNozzo breathed a sigh of relief as he finished his final suicide run, skidding over the line and leaning forward to catch his breath. Sweat dripped off his forehead and he swiped a hand over it as his coach approached.

"DiNozzo!"

"Crap…" muttered Tony under his breath. As usual, his coach was not happy.

"You're slowing down! That was four seconds longer than last time!" Coach Weatherly approached him, his face stern.

"Sorry Coach," said Tony, straightening up to face the music.

"Something weighing you down?" the coach asked, looking him up and down. Tony hated it when he was looked at like that. Like he couldn't do anything right. Like he was a disappointment.

"No coach."

"You sure about that son?" Weatherly approached him, circling him like a vulture. "You been laying off the pizza like I told you?"

"Yes coach."

"Well good! Prove it. Thirty more, come on!"

Without a word Tony gritted his teeth and went off running, cursing that hot dog he'd snuck in before coming to training. His coach continued to yell as he ran, what the older man called 'tough love'.

"Come on! You want to make it to the top don't you?"

"Yes Coach!"

"You wanna lead the team?"

"Yes Coach!"

"You want to beat UCLA?"

"Yes Coach!"

"Then prove it!"

Tony willed his legs to go faster, ignoring the growing pain in his stomach.

* * *

"DiNozzo!"

Tony's eyes widened at the harsh voice behind him, his friends sitting with him at the cafeteria table suddenly quietening. Tony swivelled around on his chair, placing the pasta down guiltily.

"Hey Coach," he tried with a smile.

Weatherly was in no mood for pleasantries. "The game is in a week DiNozzo! How do you expect to keep in shape with this crap in your gut?" He gestured to the various foods littering the table, ignoring the fact not all of it was Tony's. "I want it worked off by training this afternoon, you hear me?"

"Loud and clear," sighed Tony. Weatherly stormed off.

"Dude, your coach is insane," whispered Reid, one of his friends.

"Lay off him man, we're versing UCLA in a week," laughed Mark, a team mate. "We're in the Final Four - it's intense."

"Then why didn't he yell at you?"

Mark grinned. "I'm not the captain. Poor ol' Tony's got a bit more pressure on his shoulders."

Tony grimaced as Mark shoved him playfully. He did have more pressure. And he wasn't living up to it. "Sorry guys, gotta go," he said, running off and leaving the rest of his meal untouched.

* * *

Tony stepped out of the shower with a towel around his waist and eyed the scales in the corner of the locker room. It was late, well after training had finished, and he was alone. Taking a short breath, Tony walked forward and gingerly stepped on them. He waited for the numbers to balance and cursed quietly to himself. Even with his extra work after his teammates and coach had all gone, he was the same as when he started. Unable to best his last time with the suicide runs, Tony was beginning to doubt himself and his abilities. Was this really all because of a bit too much junk food? And why was he having so much trouble working it off?

Tony checked his watch with a sigh. _Just a few more laps can't hurt_, he thought, and pulled his sweaty gym clothes back out of his bag._ I'll just do a few more._

* * *

"DiNozzo!"

Tony lifted his face from his hands, dreading every step his coach took towards him. His teammates were all gathered around, and together they were mourning; they had lost the game against UCLA. After coming so close to being number one, the Buckeyes were out for the season.

And it was all Tony's fault.

Tony forced himself to his feet as Coach Weatherly reached the team, daggers in his eyes. He had never been so angry. "What the hell was that, huh?" Weatherly got right in Tony's face, glaring the young basketballer down. "Why don't you explain to me how we lost?" Tony opened his mouth to answer but Weatherly wasn't done. "Explain to me, and the team, how you completely screwed the pooch and let us all down!"

"Come on Coach, it wasn't his fault," said Mark nervously. The whole team was shocked by his behaviour to their star player.

"No, he's right," said Tony angrily, unable to meet anyone's eyes. "I let you guys down. I was too slow." He ran a hand through his hair, ashamed. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry isn't going to cut it DiNozzo!" growled the coach. "Shape up!" And with that he stalked off, snapping at anyone in his way.

"Woah," remarked John, the small forward player. "Coach has gone off his rocker."

"Don't worry about it Tony," said Mark, standing to clap a hand on his friend's shoulder. "You did well today. We all did." He shrugged. "The Bruins just did better." He turned to the team and they began to walk away dejectedly towards the locker room.

But Tony stayed behind. He saw the other team celebrating and cheering on the opposite side of the court, and his blood began to boil. Tony was mad. He was damned pissed off. Not at UCLA, not at his team, not even at his coach. Especially not his coach. Weatherly was right.

Tony was angry at himself.

It was his fault. He'd screwed up.

He started jogging around the perimeter of the court, ignoring the last few stragglers to still leave. Every lap he got a bit faster, ran a bit harder. By the time he was alone, he was sweating profusely, his breathing getting heavy. He continued to put one foot in front of the other, trying to block out all the thoughts and emotions going through his head. This had been their most important game yet, and he'd blown it. The coach's abusive words snuck their way back into his brain, and Tony mulled over them, analysed every single thing he'd said, as he continued to run. Constant memories of Tony eating carelessly with friends, sculling drinks at frat parties, lounging around after a heavy meal, and accompanied with each one, was a lecture from Coach Weatherly shaming him for every bit of it.

He'd been eating too much. Tony was now sure of it. And it had weighed him down.

* * *

Back in the locker room Tony found the scales once more, and stepped onto them without even bothering to take a shower first.

Still the same.

He'd still failed to lose anything, and this was after Tony had nearly run himself into the ground. He'd had to stop in fear of passing out from exertion, and he hadn't lost a damn pound.

The emotions, the stress, the shame of the day began to build up, and coupled with older memories, other worries, problems not even relevant to today, it started to overflow. Tony banged his fist against the wall, trying to keep control.

_I just can't do good enough._

It was a thought he'd fought with many times before, ever since his father first shipped him off to military school. Was this why his dad seemed to hate him as well? Tony would have bet anything that if he had bothered to show up today, Senior would have sided with Coach.

_I'm sick of letting everyone down._

The internal tumult continued to build, and he clutched his stomach as it began to ache uncontrollably. Had he eaten too much again? He couldn't remember eating recently… But why else would his stomach be hurting so much?

_I just want to improve!_

Suddenly Tony found himself staggering towards the toilets, slamming a cubicle door open and falling to his knees. Bracing a hand against the back wall, Tony retched and heaved, his worn out body no longer able to cope with everything going on inside his head. He remained like that for what seemed like ages, too long, yet not long enough. All the stress had finally caught up with him, and he couldn't hold it in any longer.

Finally there was nothing left to throw up and Tony sat back weakly, resting his head against the scribbled-on wall of the toilet stall. He felt sick, and filthy - but somehow lighter. Like he had finally gotten rid of what he'd been trying to lose for weeks. The pressure, the _weight_, was eased, and Tony couldn't help but wonder if it was always that simple to fix things. The thought scared him a little.

_I just want to be good enough._


	3. Chapter 3

**Here's another one for ya. Hope it's alright :) It is based near the very end of season 2, but I made it slightly AU in that Tony comes back to work a few days before Ari reappears and almost blows them all up.**

**This chapter dedicated to TheNaggingCube and her friend. I hope she's ok, and that you don't mind me writing about this issue.**

**Thanks for everyone's support.**

"You want some Tony?" asked Kate, proffering her box of Thai noodles.

Tony glanced over at them from where he lay back on his chair, his eyes half open. "Nah, I'm good thanks," he said. Feeling eyes on him, Tony looked towards Gibbs who was looking blankly back at him; an unasked question. Tony's expression turned determined and he gave a slight nod, before closing his eyes and going back to resting his head against the wall of his desk. It was reassurance. _I'm fine._

"I could get used to this. We finally get to actually finish our meals without you sticking your nose in them," teased Kate.

"Aren't you going to offer me yours Probie?" asked Tony without opening his eyes.

"You already said you didn't want any!" spluttered Tim.

"It's still polite to offer," Tony replied with a small smile. He loved winding McGee up.

The younger agent just rolled his eyes and continued to eat.

Tony's mind wandered back over the last month as he tried not to doze off. For a week after Gibbs had found out about Tony's… He liked to think of it as a disposition, Tony had felt paranoid and nervous, on edge every time he walked through the elevator into work. But Gibbs had acted normal, treating his SFA with the same tough love he always had. The only sign that it had even happened was whenever it came to eating. It had been much the same as it was tonight. If he ate, great, Gibbs would just keep an eye on him for a while after. If he didn't eat, Tony would get the same look, the same question. It was a small gesture, one that the other agents barely noticed, but it was enough to keep Gibbs satisfied and Tony safe. Gibbs trusted Tony to be honest, now that it was out in the open between them, and DiNozzo in turn, as always, didn't want to disappoint Gibbs. A tired smirk flitted across Tony's lips as he remembered the first and so far only time they'd really talked about it.

_"Gibbs, I'm sor-"_

_"Would you stop, DiNozzo?"_

_Tony closed his mouth but grimaced, feeling uncomfortable, guilty, and though he didn't want to admit it, kind of scared. They were both leaning against the wall of Tony's apartment where they'd been for some time. After a moment Tony tried again, rushing the words out before they could be taken back._

_"I disappointed you."_

_Tony forced himself to face Gibbs, who just shook his head with a small smile. "Don't be an idiot DiNozzo. You haven't disappointed me." _You never could.

_"But - "_

_"Hell, if anyone should be feeling bad it's me." The look of incredulity on Tony's face was comical._

_"Boss, you can't seriously - "_

_"You've been my agent for how long DiNozzo? I should have realised." Gibbs's voice was serious but he kept his expression light._

_Tony shook his head. "You couldn't have. It's not… It doesn't happen so much anymore." He hesitated before continuing, reverting to rubbing his hands as he had when Gibbs had caught him. "I've only… It's only happened a few times since I came to work for you," he admitted in a haltering voice. "I know it's wrong, I know it's stupid so - "_

_Tony winced as a hand once again connected with the back of his head. "It's not stupid Tony," said Gibbs quietly. He looked his friend right in the eyes. "And you haven't disappointed me. You come to me next time, you got it?"_

_Tony looked down at his hands, unseeing as they kept in motion._

_"Hey," Gibbs nudged Tony's arm with his elbow. Tony faced him once again. "You. Come to me. Got it?"_

_Tony gave a tilted nod, and it startled Gibbs to realise how much it reminded him of Kelly, whenever she was listening to one of his lectures for doing something wrong. "Got it Boss."_

_Shaking it off, Gibbs went back to leaning comfortably against the wall. "Good."_

_They stayed there, silent, for hours._

So the week after his secret had come out hadn't been too bad for Tony. He was embarrassed, but Gibbs kept his mouth shut, and Kate and Tim remained oblivious. Finally, Tony had begun to once again feel at ease, finally getting back into the rhythm of being a federal agent.

So naturally it was about that time he got pneumonic plague.

Tony's facial muscles twitched as his mind slipped back to the blue lights and burning lungs, as it often had. His body gave a small tremble, which he silently scolded himself for.

The plague. What kind of a bitch gives someone the plague?

The amount of lecturing Tony had received when returning to work early was enough to last him a lifetime, but it was worth it. He had been telling the truth when he told Gibbs he was going crazy at home, but there was more to it than that.

There's always more to it.

Anything Tony had been eating lately he'd been unable to keep down, an after affect of getting a fatal sickness from the dark ages. It had nothing to do with his condition, but the amount of times Tony had thrown up after a meal was bringing him dangerously close to relapsing. He had hoped being around the work environment, more importantly around Gibbs, would stop it from getting that far. Not that he would admit it.

But damn it was hard to work. Gibbs had firmly kept Tony doing deskwork as they investigated the case of a poisoned petty officer, but even that was becoming increasingly difficult. Tony was just so tired.

Hence him taking advantage of the others' hunger to rest his eyes. The smell of cheap take away wafted across the bullpen, causing Tony's already worn out stomach muscles to twitch in protest. He frowned but kept his eyes closed.

_God I want this out of my system._

Tony sat up straight suddenly with his eyes wide open, anxious to dispel such thoughts.

_I've gotten this far._

He wouldn't let it get to him this time.

_I'm not going to let Gibbs down again._

Kate and Tim looked at him curiously, his abrupt move having attracted attention. He was saved having to explain however by the ring of Gibbs's phone.

"Yeah, Gibbs," he uttered with a glance to his SFA. After a moment he unceremoniously hung up and addressed his team. "Wife's here. Kate, with me. You're going to interrogate her." He began to walk towards the elevator, Kate hurrying to catch up. As she left she dropped her half eaten dinner on Tony's desk with a meaningful look. Tim continued to lounge by Kate's desk with his own food until Gibbs called out to him above the ding of the elevator. "Need her financial records McGee."

Tim scrambled back to his own desk and began to type madly away, his food now forgotten. Watching carefully to make sure McGee was engrossed in his own work, Tony slowly, quietly, nudged Kate's offering into the bin.

He would try and eat something later.

Or at least, that's what he told himself.

* * *

It was the next day and Gibbs was worried.

Tony was looking deathly pale, frail as a paper house and about ready to keel over. Gibbs hadn't seen him eat anything in days, and the lack of food was showing.

And now he was refusing to go home.

Tony was leanin against the shadowy wall of the unmoving elevator, trying for casual and coming off exhausted. Gibbs studied him from the opposite wall, his arms crossed but his face soft.

Well. Soft for Gibbs anyway.

"You need rest Tony," he repeated.

"I had a nap on Abby's futon a few hours ago," he managed with a weak smile.

A shadow of his former self.

"Damn it DiNozzo, you're still recovering from the_ plague_." Gibbs's voice wasn't quite shouting, but it was certainly much louder. His arms unfolded as he spoke and his fists clenched at the sides as he resisted punching the cold metal wall. "An hour curled up on a pillow isn't going to help."

"Boss." Tony looked determinedly at his mentor for a brief moment before averting his eyes. "I can't go home."

Gibbs paused, noticing with worry how Tony had begun to rub his hands together slowly. "Why not?" he asked cautiously.

"I'm… not sure what I'll do," the tired man admitted.

"Ah DiNozzo," sighed Gibbs. He turned and flicked the emergency switch back on, the elevator whirring back into motion.

"What are you doing?" asked Tony suspiciously, his voice weak, as Gibbs hit the button for the lobby.

"Taking you home," muttered Gibbs.

"I told you, I can't - "

"Wrong home," cut in Gibbs. Tony looked at him, confused. The elevator doors opened and Gibbs stepped out, looking back expectantly at Tony until he followed suit. "I'll keep an eye on you tonight."

"Boss - "

"You going to refuse my hospitality DiNozzo?"

"I have to Gibbs." Tony rushed to keep up with the purposeful strides of his boss. "I'll be alright on my own."

Gibbs stopped abruptly and glared at his agent. "A moment ago you said you can't be alone."

"Can't go home," corrected Tony, regretful of even letting that much slip. "I'll just catch up on some paperwork, I may as well while you have me chained to the desk."

Gibbs continued to stand unwavering; he wasn't buying it. "What aren't you telling me Tony?" he asked simply.

Tony flung his hands up in the air, frustrated. "I can't rely on you to fix this for me Gibbs." he began to feel dizzy and his stomach took on a familiar ache. He just wanted to lie down. "If I start relying on you now - "

"If you'd had someone to rely on back then, Tony, maybe you wouldn't need my help now," pointed out Gibbs softly, causing Tony to stop in his tracks. He'd never even considered that. Gibbs started walking again, trusting his protégé to fall in step behind him. There was a moment of silence between them and they had reached Gibbs's care before he spoke again. "We're having soup," he commented drily.

Tony looked at him curiously, weighing up his chances of arguing the matter any further, before letting out a sigh.

"It had better be chicken noodle."

**I don't really have anything specific planned after this one, but I'd like to keep going with the story a bit longer. So if you have any ideas/prompts or whatever, please let me know. Make it based after season 2 some time (sorry Kate).**

**Thanks guys ^_^**


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry I took a bit longer with this one. ****That will happen occasionally. **I should probably mention these chapters will not all be in chronological order, but I'll always explain where we are in the series when I need to so hopefully you won't get confused.

******And sorry about re-uploading. Thanks very much to Meilea2010 for pointing out a big flaw in this chapter that I had to fix.**

**This chapter is based during the time where Gibbs quit - ok, no, I can just feel him death staring me - during the time Gibbs _retired_, and is dedicated to Ria Rose and sopmire, who both suggested looking at what would happen there.  
**

"McGee, have you by any chance seen our fearless leader?" Ziva walked into the bullpen looking unhappy. She dropped her bag by her desk and slumped into the chair as Tim looked up from the corner opposite.

"Nah, not for about an hour," he replied. "Think he said something about a coffee break."

"I still do not understand why Americans need such long breaks to drink coffee," sighed Ziva.

McGee frowned. "You ok?"

"I was responding to a call about the Grant case," sighed Ziva. "Something Tony should have been here to do," she added icily.

"The embezzlement case? I thought we wrapped that up a week ago," frowned McGee.

Ziva nodded. "A Navy Commander is still insisting that Grant is innocent. Refused to back down until I came to hear him out. Took much longer than I expected."

"Guess he owes you for that one," said Tim with a grin.

"Who owes her Probie?" asked a new voice. Tim quickly minimised his game on screen and looked up to his new boss. Ziva answered before he could.

"You do, Tony," she said snappishly. "Where have you been?"

Tony's carefree grin lacked some of its usual flair as he answered. "Top secret Boss business Zee Vah. I miss something while I was gone?"

"Ziva had to talk to an unhappy witness about our last case," explained McGee.

"What, Commander Davis?" Tony walked to Gibbs's desk - his desk - and took a sip from the cup in his hand. "I've already spoken to him three times. Guy won't give up about his friend, Renny." Tony said the accused's name with a cynical expression.

His agents were taken aback by this revelation. "When did you talk to him?" asked McGee, surprised.

"A few times over the past week," said Tony dismissively. "Usually during my lunch break. The way he talks you'd think Grant was John Coffey." Met by confusion he elaborated exasperatedly. "The Green Mile? Starring Michael Clarke Duncan and Tom Hanks? Come on guys, you've got to get some culture into you." He leaned back on the chair, and Ziva began to notice the fine lines of exhaustion framing his face. "You beaten my high score yet Probie?"

Tim grimaced with a glance to his computer.

* * *

"Alright go home," said Tony abruptly. "We'll pick it up tomorrow." Shadows decorated the entire floor, and for the first time Ziva noticed they were the only agents still working. Noting his team's hesitation, Tony continued. "Go on, our drug ring isn't going anywhere. Get some rest." As if to prove his point, Tony took a sip of his coffee before brusquely standing up and walking off, though he had left his bag and was walking in the wrong direction to the elevator.

"Well obviously he is not ready to leave," stated Ziva.

McGee was already standing and turning off his computer monitor. "Yeah, he hasn't really been going home lately."

Ziva looked at her partner. "Aren't you worried McGee?"

"I used to worry about Gibbs too," admitted Tim with a tired sigh. "But what can you do? They're just as stubborn as each other. Gibbs managed right?"

"Gibbs was a marine," pointed out Ziva.

"And Tony was taught by the best," rebutted Tim. "I don't like it either Ziva, but it's his choice." He paused, now packed up and hovering by the edge of the bullpen. "You leaving?"

"In a minute McGee," she replied distractedly. Tim nodded, understanding her meddlesome nature was from the best intentions.

"Good luck," he called as reached the elevator.

Ziva gracefully strolled to Tony's now abandoned desk, glancing at the clutter littering the surface. She picked up the coffee, wondering just how many cups he'd had today. But with a frown she noticed something was wrong and took the lid off.

"What..?" The cup was empty and dry; like it had never been used. No wonder it had felt so light. What was Tony playing at?

* * *

"Abby what are you still doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question New Bossman."

Tony ambled into her lab, attempting to appear casual enough to take away from the bags under his eyes. "You know, it's been a month Abby. It hurts that you still call me _New_ Bossman."

Abby turned on him and flashed one of her cheery smiles, a feat for such a time of night. "No offence Tony, you know I think you're a great boss. But Gibbs is gunna be back."

"Yeah well it'll take a real crisis for that to happen."

Abby was surprised by the bitterness in Tony's voice, his smile now strained. "Watch your tone mister," she said, pointing threateningly at him. Secretly she understood his feelings of betrayal, and maybe felt them a little herself. But no one else had to know that.

"Sorry Abby," he grinned, trying to force some life back into him. "Look, go home and get some sleep. We're going to pick it up in the morning."

Abby paused, studying her friend. "Are _you_ going home?" Tony rubbed the back of his head looking sheepish. "Oh come on Tony, you're pushing yourself too far. When was the last time you've eaten? You need to take a break just like the rest of us."

"I was going to say the same thing."

The two turned to see Ziva leaning against the doorway. "What is this, an intervention?" joked Tony, attempting to remain looking relaxed.

"Tony, could I talk to you for a second?" She was holding an empty coffee cup in her hands.

_Crap_. "Didn't I send you home Ziva?"

"It will only take a minute."

Knowing she wouldn't let up, Tony grimaced at Abby before heading for the door. "If you don't hear from me in ten minutes, call security," he called before shutting the door and blocking out Abby's album of Crystal Method . "What can I do for ya Officer David?"

Ziva looked sternly at him, suspicion covering the concern in her eyes. "Is everything alright Tony?"

The team leader paused before letting out a short laugh. "Aww, Ziva, you're concerned. That's adorable, really," his tone bordered on mocking. "But I am perfectly fine, thank you."

"Would you care to explain this then?" Ziva held up the unused cup.

Tony's eyes went hard, but he kept his voice light. "Testing your investigative skills Zee Vah. I must say, I'm impressed with how quick you were on the uptake." He shook his head dramatically. "Might have to give Tim a bit of a lecture though…"

"Tony," Ziva hissed impatiently. "I am not in the mood for your games. I'm tired." She paused. "But so are you. You are exhausted, and I know you have been trying to cover it up but there is only so much you can hide." Tony leaned on the wall looking frustrated as she spoke. "I have not seen you go home in days. I have not seen you eaten - "

"What is with everyone's obsession over my eating habits?" Tony muttered, almost to himself, as he rubbed his eyes tiredly.

Ziva continued as if uninterrupted. "Which makes this - " she gestured with the cup "all the more suspicious." She watched Tony as he ran a hand through his hair. Her voice lowered and she continued calmly. "Despite your new status you are still my partner, and I am concerned."

Finally Tony looked at her seriously. "I appreciate that Ziva, but I'm fine. Really." He averted her eyes and looked to the ground. There was a moment of silence where Ziva watched Tony curiously as he began to rub his hands together as if washing them under a tap. "I'm perfectly fine."

**Don't worry the next chapter will continue to look at this part, but will most likely be based when Gibbs gets back, and a few things will be explained. I hope. I also have a few more ideas after that, but please continue to give me prompts for this story if you think of any.**

**The Crystal Method, the band Abby was listening to, I know of cuz they did the theme song to Bones. And I've just discovered their other music and am loving it - it's great homework music for some reason! The Green Mile, the movie Tony mentioned, I haven't actually seen but really want to after reading the description of it.**


	5. Chapter 5

**It's about time I got this one up. I'm not sure it flowed wonderfully, but hopefully you still enjoy it.**

**I'm actually preparing to upload two more stories in the next few days... I think I have a problem.**

"DiNozzo, where the hell's my suspect?" Tony walked back into the bullpen looking stony faced.

"Waiting in interrogation Boss." He sat back down at his desk and immediately focused on his computer. McGee and Ziva watched the minimised exchange uneasily. That expression had barely left Tony's face in the three weeks since Gibbs had been back, and that was probably the most conversation the two had had all week. To begin with Ziva and Tim had thought Tony was just sour he'd been demoted, but they were beginning to think it might be something more than that.

Gibbs glared at his SFA a moment before standing and marching away. "Hurry it up Ziva, you're interrogating him."

Ziva glanced quickly at Tony, who hadn't looked away from his computer, and stood to catch up to Gibbs.

"Something wrong McGlare?" asked Tony a few minutes after they'd left. The other agent had been not-so covertly watching his partner the entire time.

"It's just…" Tim hesitated, but forced himself to keep going. "Are you ok? I mean, are you and Gibbs - "

"Don't know what you're getting at McGee," said Tony pointedly as he continued to glare at his computer.

"Gibbs hasn't gotten you to interrogate anyone since - "

"Since he quit?" finished Tony, finally turning on McGee with hard eyes. "Since he left us? Or are you going with_ retired_ like everyone else trying to kiss his ass?"

"You guys need to make up," finished McGee, hoping he didn't sound desperate. It wasn't just for Tony and Gibbs' benefit that the two had to fix things. The whole team was feeling the tension and it was affecting them and their work. "I don't know what's going on, but even Ducky's forgiven him by now -"

"McGee," said Tony seriously as he turned back to his computer.

"Yeah Tony?"

"Shut up."

* * *

At 8 o clock Ziva and McGee exchanged looks and both stood up. "I am heading out," stated Ziva, grabbing her bag.

"Yeah, I'm beat," said McGee. "Goodnight Gibbs." He began to walk away. "Night Tony," he said with a pointed look. Tony grunted in reply.

The two agents walked away, Ziva glancing over her shoulder as they reached the elevator. "This better work," sighed McGee. "I'm pretty sure I haven't heard more than two movie references come out of Tony's mouth. It's unnerving."

"I agree," said Ziva as the elevator doors closed. "We are still not a full team until those two start behaving like themselves."

Tony lasted all of five minutes before he reached for his bag and stood up. "Night Boss," he said in a monotone, walking away.

Waiting for the elevator he resisted turning around, sure that eyes were already on him. He breathed a sigh of relief as there was a familiar ding and finally the doors opened. Tony pressed the button for lobby, and was so deep in thought he almost didn't notice someone stepping in next to him at the last moment.

Almost.

Tony folded his arms defensively and leaned on the wall of the lift. His mouth remained in a tight line and his eyes glued to the floor.

"There something you want to say to me DiNozzo?"

Tony remained poker faced. "Nah thanks Boss, I'm good."

"Alright, let me rephrase." Gibbs leaned over to flick the emergency switch, bringing the elevator to a grinding halt. Crossing his arms he unwittingly mirrored his agent's stance. "What the hell is going on?"

"Look, Boss, I need to get home so…" Tony reached an arm around Gibbs and flicked the switch back, causing the elevator to clunk loudly back into life. But, having none of it, Gibbs turned it off again. "Come on, Boss, what do you want from me?"

"The truth," was the simple reply.

"Yeah no, you know what, I don't think you do." Tony stood up straight to look Gibbs in the eye. "I don't think it would do much for that tanned self esteem you've developed."

Gibbs refused to break eye contact. "If you're angry about me leaving DiNozzo, just say it."

Tony's laugh was hard and cold. "Why? What good would that do? It's not going to stop him from leaving again!" The senior field agent froze.

"Him?" Gibbs's voice lowered slightly.

_Did I really just let that slip?_ "You. I meant you." Tony began to study his feet, though anger was still evident in his voice.

Gibbs hesitated before speaking, trying to choose the right words. "Tony, you tell anyone I said this and I will head-slap you so hard your kid will have a concussion." Maybe not the best start. "But I'm sorry. Alright? I'm sorry for leaving." Tony rolled his eyes. "But I'm not what I used to be." Gibbs looked away, walking to face the opposite wall. After a pause to compose himself back into the hard-ass he was, he turned around again. "And I knew I could count on you Tony." His voice was quiet but serious and he meant every word. "You're a damned good agent, and I knew you could handle everything."

Tony smirked humourlessly. "Yeah, not everything." Gibbs looked down to see Tony's hands rubbing together and suddenly it all hit him, the realisation mixed with a wave of shock and guilt.

"Crap," he muttered under his breath, leaning against the wall and sliding to sit on the floor, Tony following suit. There was a moment of silence where Gibbs stared and Tony glared, both watching his hands wash together. Finally Gibbs asked "how many times?"

Tony's face remained set the whole time, his voice unwavering. "While you were gone? Three."

Gibbs rubbed his hands over his face, suddenly feeling exhausted and like complete crap. How had this not occurred to him before now? How had he missed this?

_By being in Mexico, that's how._

"Tony, I - "

"No, to be honest I shouldn't be so angry," admitted Tony, sounding tired. "I can't just rely on someone to always be there. I can't depend on them and expect them to always be around to help, it's - it's common sense. I should know that by now," he sighed earnestly. Gibbs was reminded of the slip up before but didn't ask about it.

This was much more pressing. "No, Tony, you should be able to rely on someone." He knocked his head back to look up at the darkened roof as he spoke. "I should have been that person. I'm your Boss. I should always have your six."

Tony leaned his head into one of his open palms. "I thought it was supposed to be the other way around."

"Mutual."

They sat in another silence, albeit slightly more comfortable than the last one. Finally Tony ran a hand through his hair and spoke. "I screwed the pooch big time while you were gone Boss."

"I don't think you were the one that screwed this up Tony."

DiNozzo shook his head but didn't answer, saying instead "I was offered my own team you know."

Gibbs' eyes narrowed. That was news to him. He attempted not to show any emotion as he processed this. What was Jenny thinking taking his best agent away? Mind you, perhaps he wasn't one to talk right now… "You gonna take it?"

"I think it's been made pretty clear I'm not up for the job."

Despite Gibbs' own wishes, he argued. "You're more than capable Tony. From what I hear you really proved yourself." _From what I hear._

_I should have been there._

"Gibbs." Tony looked at his boss seriously. "I turned it down a week ago. I'm not strong enough. I couldn't even get by a few months on my own without…" he shook his head. "I'm still too - "

"Say weak and see what happens DiNozzo," Gibbs warned. "You're one of the strongest and most adaptable people I've ever met. Any kind of situation you might be in," he nodded to Tony's now still hands, "you get through it and come out on top. It's about time you remember that."

Tony looked disbelieving but said nothing. Finally he looked up at the switch and said "someone's probably waiting for this elevator."

"Probably."

The two agents stood up simultaneously, Gibbs turning the lift back on. "It's not the only reason I said no, Boss," commented Tony softly as they began to move. "Don't get me wrong, there's more to it than that."

"That so?"

Tony almost sounded sheepish. "I didn't really want to leave you guys behind."

Gibbs rested his hand on Tony's shoulder for a moment before letting go, just as the lift doors opened. A small handful of people waiting sighed in relief and bustled inside, barely giving Tony and Gibbs room to leave. The lobby was now quiet and almost deserted. "I won't abandon you again DiNozzo."

"Boss - "

"I mean it. I'll be there next time." Gibbs looked seriously at his agent.

"I promise."

**Still accepting prompts for this story. Also, anyone who follows me on Twitter can give me a prompt for a one shot they want me to do, if you're interested. Obviously my username is NerdBurga. Have I already mentioned this? Probably. Sorry for the spamming, there will be no more in this story xD Promise!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Wow, it's been a while. Sorry about that. I still have plenty of ideas for this story, and keep the ideas/suggestions coming as well! Shout out to sopmire and Scat210 who both wanted to look at the time during the Season of Secrets where Tony is dating Jeanne. Huge thanks to everyone reviewing, following or favoriting, I can't get enough.**

"I'll be back in a moment, ok?" Jeanne Benoit stood up from across the table and smiled her gorgeous smile , heading towards the ladies room. Tony smiled tightly back, hoping she hadn't noticed his less than casual mannerisms throughout the evening. Normally Tony would have his A game when going on a date with Jeanne, and he always looked forward to their dinners together. But tonight even her dazzling eyes and intriguing personality could not keep Tony's mind focused, and as he toyed with the carbonara in front of him, his discomfort continued to grow.

Tony hadn't been to his apartment in almost a week, and with cases piling high at the office, slipping away to attend to his undercover assignment was becoming increasingly difficult. The whole thing was stressing the special agent out more than was safe. The constant suspicious looks and relentless questions he received from the team were never far from his mind, making even the quiet moments filled with stress. The whole fiasco that was Tony's life was eating away at his carefully built defences. Guilt, concern and confusing emotions he didn't quite understand were pushing him, pushing him, and the condition he'd been working so hard at to keep under control was gaining leverage in his life. The willpower it took alone was running Tony ragged.

It was too many secrets, too many lies, and never enough time to work through them.

Tony leaned forward to rub his forehead against a shaky hand, his stomach trying to claw it's way up his throat. But he pushed it back down, feeling a fierce determination he had never understood as Jeanne made her way back from the bathroom.

Tony was distracted by how beautiful she looked.

"Sorry about that," she said, sitting down.

"No worries," he replied with a charming grin, reaching his hand out across the table. Jeanne smiled, a small blush colouring the edges of her cheeks as she placed her delicate hand in his. The scraping of his stomach finally settled as their eyes met and, just for a moment, Tony forgot about his other life.

* * *

"Boss!" McGee looked up triumphantly from his computer, bringing records on to the plasma automatically. "I think I know who hired Maston."

"You think, McGee?" asked Gibbs, standing and facing the big screen with Ziva doing the same. James Maston was a gunslinger, recently arrested by NCIS for murdering Petty Officer Shane; the first of his suspected twelve hits he'd ever been actually convicted for. But he had not given up the name of who hired him, which was what had slowed down Gibbs and his team for the last two days. If they finally had a lead, he didn't want any second guessing.

"Well, no, actually, I - I know, I mean, I think I know - "

"Spit it out McGee," sighed Gibbs with a roll of his eyes.

"Well, Maston's financial records were hard to get a hold of, because, you know, he doesn't really have any, but he does have one account that's almost untouched. It just had a few spare dollars in there from when he was a kid and not, you know, a murderer." One look from Gibbs was all the encouragement Tim needed to continue. "Well anyway, because it had gone without being used for so long it was under his old name, James Thicket, and kind of buried under other accounts thanks to the bank's upgraded system, it sort of got lost and - "

"I'm really hoping there's a point here McGee."

"Right, sorry." Tim gestured to the screen where the bank account to one James Thicket was displayed, and $60 000 was flashing. "A week before Officer Shane's murder, his account received a huge influx of money. It came from an off shore account, but I managed to trace it back to…" Tim clicked the mouse and the picture of Shane's commanding officer maximised on screen.

"Get me an address," ordered Gibbs, going back to his desk and gearing up. "Ziva, with me."

"You got it Gibbs." The Massaud liaison officer was already holstering her gun. Just as they were ready to exit the bullpen, Tony arrived, striding to his desk looking stressed and tired.

"Sorry Boss, I miss something?" McGee and Ziva glanced between him and Gibbs nervously. Tony's recent disappearances had been putting their Boss on edge, and the two caught in the middle of the tension had begun placing bets on how long it would be before Gibbs lost it.

Suddenly Ziva wasn't so sure she wanted her $20 from the pool.

"McGee, with Ziva," muttered Gibbs, not taking his eyes off Tony. "Bring the bastard in." Without a word the two nodded and left. Tony, for his part, had not made eye contact with anyone and was staring intently at his computer, typing aimlessly. Silence hung in the air so heavy it was suffocating, despite the phones ringing from other bullpens and the ding of the elevator in the background. Gibbs spent a moment examining his agent; Tony looked worn down, his face almost gaunt under the artificial light of the monitor. His hands trembled only slightly as he typed, so small anyone not looking closely wouldn't have noticed.

Tony's shoddy appearance and the secrets that Gibbs knew led the older man to one conclusion, and it wasn't one he liked.

"Something you want to tell me Tony?" asked Gibbs, his voice neutral.

"Uh… It won't happen again?" tried Tony without looking up. Gibbs reached over and turned off the monitor, sending Tony's face into shadows and forcing him to look at his mentor.

"That's a load of bull," said Gibbs matter-of-factly. Tony sighed and rubbed his face with his hand. He seemed exhausted. "Thought we had a deal Tony."

For a moment the SFA looked genuinely confused. But as Gibbs watched realisation dawned on Tony's face. "Oh! No, Gibbs, you got it wrong," said Tony with a nervous laugh. "I'm ok, really." He held up his hands as if proving they were clean. "Haven't in… Well, a while." Gibbs continued to watch him curiously. "Seriously, I'm not leaning over a toilet behind your back. You have nothing to worry about. Scouts honour."

Gibbs studied him for a moment longer before nodding and walking away. Ok, so Tony wasn't hiding _that_ from him. But he was hiding something, and Gibbs wasn't going to take much more of it before he did something about it. _Nothing to worry about. Ha._ DiNozzo was a great agent, one of the best. But Gibbs needed one he could count on, and with all this sneaking around, he wasn't so sure Tony was up to par.

And that scared him a little.

* * *

"...thought Petty Officer Shane would get them killed in Iraq, but he didn't have enough grounds to fire him, so he contacted Maston instead," explained Ziva, bringing Tony up to date on the case.

"It's funny how some people jump straight to 'kill' as their solution to everything," commented Tony, doodling random shapes on his notepad.

"Sometimes there is no other way, Tony," Ziva pointed out seriously.

"Sure, sometimes," he replied. "But it's never seen as the last resort anymore. Everyone's so enthusiastic for the thrill of murder these days."

"Those are dark thoughts," said Ziva, watching him carefully.

Tony shrugged. "I have them occasionally." He suddenly grinned at her. "Makes up for all the other stuff that goes on up here," he said, tapping a pencil against his head.

"I do not want to know," she said quickly, hiding a smirk. Their banter across the bullpen was cut short by the ring of a phone. Tony was immediately drawn away from the conversation and went to grab his mobile, then shook his head and opened his desk drawer to pull out another mobile, answering and stepping out of the bullpen in one fluid movement.

"This is Tony."

Ziva watched him walk away, curiosity battling with resentment over whoever was on the other end of Tony's new mystery second phone - whoever it was that was continuously making her partner disappear, sometimes for hours at a time.

"Morning Ziva," came a cheery new voice from the direction of the elevator. Ziva snapped out of her thoughts to smile at Tim who was walking in with a coffee in his hand.

"Good morning McGee," she replied. Tim looked in the direction of where Ziva had been staring just in time to see Tony's back withdraw behind the corner.

"Wow, he's on time for once," he commented, making his way to his desk and booting up his computer.

"Yes, though who knows how long he will actually be here," Ziva said bitterly.

Sure enough, by the time Gibbs returned from his routine coffee run Tony was gone, with his usual excuse of "appointment" muttered.

McGee practically wanted to duck under the desk when he saw his boss's murderous gaze.

**Don't worry, this chapter was sort of just a build up to the next one, and I think it's going to be pretty intense. Bye till then!**


End file.
